Impressions
by CalicoKitten
Summary: Sometimes, first impressions can be misleading.


Disclaimer:  Tennis no Ohjisama is the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Author's Notes:  Yes, it's a Jyousei Shounan fic.  I started this around the time of my last fic (which I now believe needs revising), but I don't think it turned out badly.  Jyousei Shounan needs some loving, after all…

Impressions

By CalicoKitten

He woke up that day with a splitting headache and an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him nauseous.  Sliding out of bed unsteadily, Kajimoto took a few steps towards the door and had to grab the handle of it tightly to keep from losing his balance.  Wincing silently, he closed his eyes against the vertigo that hit him

He didn't think he would be able to attend school that day.

Of course, he would have to tell his mother about his condition before she would let him miss it.  He assumed she wouldn't mind, seeing as he'd had perfect attendance before his freshman year at Jyousei, and he was basically the model of the perfect son.

That, or he figured he was a pretty cordial person to have around.

He peeked into her bedroom while walking past, not at all surprised to see that his father had left for work already.  He had been leaving earlier and earlier each day, and he'd been coming home later every night.  Kajimoto didn't exactly know what his father was up to, and he didn't care to speculate.

Sometimes, however, he did often wonder.

Since his mother wasn't in the bedroom, that left the downstairs to be checked.  Glancing at the steep staircase, he frowned, judging the distance and the effort it would take to climb down.  He steadied himself, grabbing the railing with his right hand and slowly descending the steps.

His mother sat at her usual seat at the kitchen table as he looked around the corner.  Taking the last step down, he stopped as he noticed something different about the kitchen.

The gentle warmth and delicious odor of breakfast were strangely absent.

Perplexed, he peered around the corner, not wanting to alert her to his presence.  And he could see her.  Uncombed brown hair fell to cover her face, and she rubbed her temples tiredly as each second flew by.  Papers were strewn everywhere.  The stove was on, and a lone pan sat on top with nothing in it.

Standing there for just a minute longer, he silently crossed the room, turning the stove off as he reached the cabinets.  He grabbed a handful of whatever medicines there were and closed the cabinet door carefully before walking past his motionless mother

He climbed wearily back up the stairs.

It seemed as if he was going to school today.

*

The first half of the school day flew by relatively slowly to Kajimoto, and he stared out the window, not bothering to pay attention to the teacher's lecture.  Thankfully, the pills he had taken just before catching the bus to school had kicked in during the ride over, and he felt fairly decent as the morning progressed.

It was noon now, however, and it had slowly worn away.

He wished he had brought more pills to school.

"Kajimoto."

The sharp, nasal voice of the teacher penetrated through his thoughts, adding to the throbbing pain in his head.

"Yes?" he replied steadily, acting as if he hadn't been staring out the window a moment ago.

"Would you please read the next section for us?"

Kajimoto glanced down at his book, observing vaguely that he had left it turned to a point somewhere in its middle, so he was certain that it was the wrong page.

His head pounded slightly.  Though the teacher would scold him, he'd simply ask what page they were on.

Before he could open his mouth to, the teacher waved his hand dismissively, deciding instead to pick on a student who rarely participated in class.

"Never mind, Kajimoto-kun.  I'd rather Shinjyou read instead."

The name sounded familiar to him, even through the haze clouding his mind, and he propped his chin on his hand, gazing across the desks at the boy whose name had been called.

He remembered him clearly as he saw the grey hair and stern countenance.  Shinjyou was part of the tennis club with him, and one of the two who had caught Hanamura-sensei's eye a while back.  As he stood as a freshman, Hanamura-sensei regarded the second, an upperclassman, a bit more than Shinjyou, and with good reason.  Though not a tennis prodigy yet, the young boy had much potential within him.

That was, until Shinjyou played a match against him.

The upperclassman, whom had been relatively new to the sport of tennis, was thoroughly beaten by the much stronger Shinjyou.  Physically and mentally, Shinjyou's "Deep Impulse" hammered the other until he was unwilling to even touch his racket anymore.  The tennis match had been a match to see, and word spread across the school like wildfire about the freshman who could kill with a ball and a racket.

As a new coach, Kajimoto thought that Hanamura-sensei handled the situation with care.  At first glance, he believed she simply liked to win and cared little about the players themselves, but she was particularly distressed over the loss of the upperclassman's talent and took measures to ensure that it would never happen again.  She managed to seal Shinjyou's tennis style away for good, and he was impressed by that.

The deep, monotonous voice of the other's rang out in the class room, and he closed his eyes to it, deciding that it was a good voice to fall asleep to.

*

Hanamura-sensei never paid much attention to him during the tennis club's daily practices, but then again, she never paid as much attention to anyone else as she did to Shinjyou.  Needless to say, he didn't feel particularly happy when she spotted him coming into practice that day.

His head still throbbed like hell, and he surprised himself by coming to tennis practice, albeit a bit late.

"Kajimoto-kun," his red-haired coach addressed him, wearing the white coat that reminded him of a scientist's lab outfit.  "You're late."

"Ah, gomen," he replied instinctively, his mother's manners drilled into his head.  "It won't happen again."

She pursed her lips as she glanced down at her notepad, pencil tapping it lightly.  "I see that you've had quite the winning streak.  As of now, undefeated in the tennis club."

"Is that so?" Kajimoto mumbled back, shaking strands of his brown hair away from his face as he leaned against the wall of the indoor tennis courts.

"So far," Hanamura answered, her eyes inquisitive behind her glasses.  "You've even beaten all of the regulars in the club.  Quite impressive.  The only other one to have done this is Shinjyou."

She gestured towards the other boy with her pencil, and he followed it with his eyes until he spotted Shinjyou, who was currently batting tennis balls against the wall with his racket.

He looked back up at her.

"And?" he asked wearily, attempting to clear his head of the fog surrounding it by running a hand through his hair.

"Shinjyou-kun doesn't have a person to practice with today.  Since you came in late," she stressed the last word with a disapproving emphasis, "you'll be his partner."

"Do I have to play him today?" Kajimoto asked, not looking forward to playing the intense boy at all.

"Kajimoto-kun," Hanamura-sensei said sternly, her eyes brooking no argument at all.  "You come into practice late, and now you're questioning me?"

He quickly responded to her tone of voice, bowing slightly before her.

"Ah, I'm sorry, sensei.  Please forgive me."

Hanamura nodded slowly, accepting his apology.  Glancing down at her notes, she pointed again with her pencil, this time at a tennis court.

"You'll be at Court C," she told him somewhat distractedly, her hand now flying over a new sheet of paper.  "Shinjyou!"

The other freshman turned around at the sound of his name, and Kajimoto could see the respect in his eyes for their tennis coach.  The noise of the balls hitting the wall stopped, and Kajimoto saw the other's eyes quickly look him over before centering back on their coach.

"Shinjyou, come over here, please."

Shinjyou complied, leaving the tennis balls on the floor as he walked over to stand in front of her.  Kajimoto observed him silently where he stood, noting the expressionless face of the tall boy that became slightly twisted whenever he played tennis.

"Shinjyou, this is Kajimoto-kun.  He'll be your practice opponent for today."

He felt the grey-haired boy's eyes on him yet again, eyes that were calculating his potential challenge factor.

If he was supposed to feel faintly miffed at this, it disappeared in the wake of a sharp pain stabbing him in the left side of his head, and he raised a hand to press against it futilely.

"Kajimoto-kun, the court, please."

He blinked.

"Hai."

Grudgingly, he positioned himself at the baseline, vaguely noting that Shinjyou had been given the serve.  The taller boy was already in the court, his hand clutching the tennis ball, prepared to serve.

Kajimoto tilted his head a bit, signaling that he was ready for Shinjyou, though the pain in his head had now transferred to the pit of his stomach.

He really wasn't ready for the match against the one who had destroyed another's love of tennis.  He'd rather be at home, in bed, with a nice, hot bowl of chicken soup.

Shinjyou served then, the motion smooth and fluid, but Kajimoto could see the motion of the ball through his wavering vision as if he himself had served.

He returned it easily.

Unexpectedly, Shinjyou seemed a little shocked that he had, pausing momentarily to hit back the ball.  Kajimoto used the shock to his advantage; he fired a shot into the empty crosscourt.

"Love-fifteen," Hanamura's voice rang out, and Kajimoto noticed the crowd of Shounan players gathered around their court, watching the game with rapt interest.

He walked back to the baseline, attempting to ignore the murmurs that flew through the crowd.

"Did you see that?  He scored the first point, on Shinjyou's serve."

"The brown-haired one?  He beat me zero-six the last time I played him.  I don't think I even scored a point…"

Feeling himself becoming drawn into the whispers surrounding him, Kajimoto pinched himself lightly, trying to pay attention to the game he was involved in.

The other player's eyes had narrowed slightly, and again, Shinjyou served the ball.

Kajimoto returned it again.

Shinjyou played it back just as easily, making him rush forward to retrieve a low ball in the center of the court.  The return he made was easy to block, however, and Shinjyou lobbed it high over his head.

He could have run back to retrieve it easily, but the recurring pain in his stomach surfaced again, and he chose not to, watching the ball fly past instead.

"Fifteen-all."

Opening eyes that he didn't know he had closed, he looked up to meet Shinjyou's gaze.

The other boy's eyes were narrowed at him.

He blinked at the intensity of such a glare, and when he opened them again, Shinjyou was ready to serve again.

He tried to pay attention to the match.

"Thirty-fifteen."

It wasn't working.

"Forty-fifteen."

He'd realized by the last point that there was no way he would be able to return the balls Shinjyou sent his way in the condition that he was in.  Bending to retrieve the low returns would most definitely cause the pain in his stomach to flare up again, and he didn't want to irritate Hanamura-sensei by throwing up on her precious tennis courts.

However, when he glanced over at her, she was giving him funny looks.  It was no doubt because of the fact that he had just stood there when the last two points had been scored, not chasing after balls that could have been easily caught up to.

Shinjyou was also giving him looks, but Kajimoto was certain that they weren't of curiosity at the lack of effort in his playing.

He served again, and this time, Kajimoto didn't even bother to bring up his racket to return it.

"Game won by Shinjyou, one to love."

Hanamura looked displeased at the display of tennis Kajimoto had shown, and she walked onto the court during the short break.  She thrust a water bottle at him, dragging him to the side by the arm.

"What are you doing out there?" she hissed as he savored the contents of the bottle.

He settled for looking at her blankly.

"I'm playing tennis, Hanamura-sensei."

She frowned then, the glasses on her nose slipping down.

"No, you're not.  You let the game go after the first point by not attempting to return those balls."

"I'm sorry, sensei."

"Instead of being sorry, I want you act like this is a real match.  Play as you should have done in the first place."

She gave him a tennis ball then, pushing him back onto the court, and he could clearly see the disapproval written all over her face.

Something different was sketched on Shinjyou's face, but when he met the other's eyes, the taller boy averted his gaze, instead focused on Kajimoto's serve.

He rolled the ball around in his hand as he felt Shinjyou's stare focused on it.

It was the perfect time to try out his new serve.  Granted, he wasn't in the best shape to be practicing it now, but he'd never used it against an opponent before.

The fact that his opponent was Shinjyou made him want to try it out even more.

He threw the ball up into the air before he decided against it, and he raised the racket higher in his hand.

He bent backwards and heard the whispers.

"Look at that!"

"He's bending so far back!"

"Is that even natural?"

He could feel all the eyes on him, and he pushed the pain away in order to try out his serve.

Snapping forward out of almost touching the floor in his bend, he served the ball, grimacing with the impact.

He caught a glimpse of the previous shock magnified a thousand times over in Shinjyou's expression as it headed his way, and the other boy didn't even have time to move when the ball hit the ground and flew behind him, spinning into the wall with its momentum.

Hanamura was temporarily rendered speechless.

"…Fifteen-love," she stated, her tone betraying her obvious disbelief.

Kajimoto ignored her disbelief, and the stares upon him, reaching into his pocket to take out another ball.  Out of the corner of his ear, he heard Hanamura tell another member of the tennis club to retrieve a tracker, and he wiped his hand across his brow.

It was exciting.

He felt proud that he had managed an ace against Hanamura's chosen freshman, especially in the state that he was in.  

It was funny, really.

That his flexibility could be put to use in ways other than winning at limbo or the American game of Twister.

Hanamura coughed once into her palm, an unspoken request for him to serve again.  He spotted the club member with the tracker in his hand, and he drew a hand across his forehead.

He was sweating too much.

Ignoring it, he settled his focus back on serving.  If Hanamura wanted to see what speed his serve would reach, she'd get what she wanted.

Tossing the ball, he again bent backward, clutching the racket even tighter in his hand, and he flew forward, hitting the ball with a greater impact than before.

His stomach churned, and he pressed a hand against it, watching to see if Shinjyou would return it.

He didn't.

"One hundred ninety-eight kilometers an hour?  No way!"

"That freshman nearly broke the two hundred mark?"

"Impossible!"

Hearing the mutterings, he glanced over at the tracker to see if it was true.

It was.

He'd have been more impressed with himself if his stomach stopped rolling.

Hanamura, for her part, looked incredibly impressed, taking notes for all that it was worth.  When she caught him looking at her, she sent him a smile, one that was usually reserved only for

Shinjyou.

He smiled back, and then served two more aces, keeping his service game.

"Game to Kajimoto.  One-all."

As she called this out, Hanamura came onto the courts, dragging him out by the arm once more.  He took this time to sit on the bench, greedily drinking the water while splashing some on his face as well.

"Kajimoto-kun, that was a brilliant serve," Hanamura praised him, her eyes alight.  "I've never seen anything like it before!  It was truly, undeniably, a masterpiece of a serve."

Kajimoto only smiled wearily once more, wiping his face with his towel.  He coughed lightly.

At this, Hanamura peered at him closely, raising a hand to press it against his forehead, but he batted it away gently.

"Are you feeling well, Kajimoto-kun?"

"I'm…just a little winded right now," he told her truthfully, rising to his feet when he saw Shinjyou on the court.  He picked up his racket, testing the strings by pulling on them.  "It's fine."

She didn't look that persuaded at his half-truth, but he figured that she didn't know much about people getting sick, so he followed Shinjyou's move into the tennis court.  Closing his eyes for just a moment, he crouched down slightly, waiting for the serve.

He heard the whispers once again.

"Do you see that?!"

"I thought he wasn't allowed to use that anymore!"

"Didn't Hanamura-sensei seal it away?"

He glanced up that, looking towards Shinjyou, and he immediately felt a sense of dread pass over him.

Shinjyou was in a stance.

In particular, it was that stance.

His eyes widened, and Hanamura-sensei shouted at Shinjyou to stop, but the other boy had already thrown the ball up, sending it straight towards Kajimoto.

The ball spun on the ground with tremendous force, and Kajimoto instantly raised his racket in front of his face to protect himself.  With one hand gripping the end of the racket and one higher up, he sent the ball back to Shinjyou's side, right on the baseline.

Shinjyou was there then, and there was that look in his eyes that defied even Hanamura's shouts at him to stop.  It reminded Kajimoto of the match with the upperclassman, and he watched as Shinjyou returned the ball.

It hit the rim of the net, rebounding upward, and he saw the expression of incredulity that it caused on Shinjyou's face.

Diving forward, he stretched out the hand with his racket, not sure whether the ball would go to his side or not.  It came down then, and he saw with slight dismay that he would not be able to reach it in time.  Releasing the racket at the tips of his fingers, the ball bounced off of its rough edge, heading in a straight arch over to Shinjyou's side.

Any relief he might have had over returning the ball vanished as Shinjyou appeared yet again, in that position he used to take whenever retrieving such a ball, and his eyes were uncharacteristically clouded with something he could not distinguish.

Shinjyou hit the ball then, aiming it straight towards Kajimoto.

Aware that his racket was no longer in his hands, Kajimoto stayed kneeling where he was, and the ball seemed as if it was heading at slow motion towards him.

He could have moved out of the way.

But then he thought, just briefly, upon his mother's still form at the kitchen table, and he froze for just an instant before turning his head to the side.

The ball hit him on the temple, grazing past him, and he fell back, his eyes fluttering.

He looked up once more, across to the other side of the court, and met Shinjyou's eyes unflinchingly.

The other boy simply gazed back at him, with something akin to curiosity in his eyes, dropping his racket as he watched Kajimoto fall.

He met the cold pavement beneath him soon enough, blinking his eyes rapidly as he heard Hanamura call his name, and remembered the distant eyes upon him.

His eyes slid shut.

*

He couldn't exactly remember waking up.

Blurry, unfocused images were before him, and he shook his head rapidly to clear it of the visions before realizing what a bad idea it was to do so.

His head pounded.

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he lifted a heavy arm to massage his temple with the tips of his fingers.  Instead of his fingers meeting hair, he was surprised to find a bandage on his right temple instead.

He opened his eyes and met startling grey orbs.

It surprised him to meet such an intense gaze after just waking up.  He supposed he'd passed out when the other freshman's ball had hit him straight on, but he couldn't seem to recall much after.

It was surprising, therefore, to have that freshman's eyes trained upon him when coming around.

He didn't let it show, however.  Covering for it by attempting to sit up, his stomach rebelled against his efforts, causing him to clutch at it futilely while stifling a pained groan.

"You shouldn't move."

It was the first time Shinjyou had spoken to him directly.

"I see that now," he replied lightly, ignoring the advice and moving to sit up against his pillows, holding back the pained whimpers that might have escaped at his motion.

Shinjyou simply observed him where he sat, which was at the chair directly next to Kajimoto's beside, and Kajimoto wondered what compelled him to do so.  Brushing his hair out of his face, he matched the other's scrutinizing expression with one of his own.

Shinjyou spoke again, his voice outwardly flat and emotionless.

"You shouldn't have been playing tennis in your condition.  Hanamura-sensei was appalled that you were playing with such a high temperature."

"Hanamura-sensei, for all her good intentions, doesn't exactly pay much attention to such details," he returned, impressed at the strength of his own voice.  "But, as you well know, she does have good intentions."

It was Shinjyou who looked away first at the exchange of words, clearly reminded of her efforts to have his "Deep Impulse" sealed away.  And, it seemed that she had succeeded in her efforts to.

That is, until he played Kajimoto today.

Breaking the sudden silence, Kajimoto decided to ask a direct question.

"Why are you here, Shinjyou-kun?'

The question gave the impression of having a simple answer, but he could see the discomfort that it caused the stoic boy, though his facial features didn't change at all.  His eyes were downcast, as if he was pondering his actions as well, and Kajimoto waited patiently for an answer.

The taller boy glanced over at him, taking in the form lying on the bed, and answered truthfully.

"I wanted to see if you would be okay."

His answer shocked Kajimoto, and he held his gaze until Shinjyou looked away, uncomfortable with such an intimate look.

Kajimoto continued to study him, reminded once again of the boy who aimed to hurt by playing tennis.  Looking closer, he could only see the impression of the boy before him.

He closed his eyes, leaning against the pillows.

"Of course I'm okay.  We still haven't finished our match, have we?  I can't let you off the hook so easily."

He heard the other boy shift in his seat, and the penetrating gaze was on him yet again.

"Aa."

No one spoke after that uttered one syllable.  Kajimoto still kept his eyes closed, and Shinjyou continued to examine him closely.  He was the boy that had kept his service game against Shinjyou with straight aces.  He was able to hold his own against Shinjyou, even when ill.

"You're different," the grey-haired player finally said, breaking the silence with the ambiguous words.

"Am I?" Kajimoto said, mulling the words over in his head.  "If you think so."

Shinjyou remained quiet then, and Kajimoto felt the beginnings of sleep overtake him yet again.

"Shinjyou-kun."

It was a name uttered without regret, issued with respect for an equal before him.

"Yes?"

He opened his eyes slightly, peering into Shinjyou's grey orbs with his own purple ones.

"Tomorrow…if I'm feeling better…I'm going to go downtown to get my ear pierced."

He punctuated the statement by tugging on the lobe of his left ear.

"I'd like it if you would come with me."

He smiled at the other slightly, taking in the expression on the usually stoic boy's face.

Shinjyou paused momentarily before replying.

"…If you'd like me to."

He nodded, a simple tip of the head to acknowledge the answer.  Sliding his eyes shut, he responded.

"Yes, I'd like you to."

And he found it amusing that it was actually true.


End file.
